Death is my Mantra
by mzfaithlehane
Summary: Death was everywhere, all around him. It was unforgiving, ruthless, and should be feared at every turn. He has seen it, heard it, and lived it. What if it was the other way around?


The day he would carry someone to to their death was the day he would lose a little bit of himself. Granted, he had saw death and had lived it too, but never had to do this. The blood, the tension, the voices.

"He carried her?"

"What happened?"

"So you're saying that she got shot but he's fine?"

But all he can hear was the voices in his head, telling him that he could've done better.

 _"Why didn't you notice sooner?!"_

 _"All you had to do was call!"_

 _"Everything would've been fine if you didn't go in there!"_

Everything was still a blur to him. Everything was fine, that is until they walked in.

* * *

 _"Spence, you alright?" she asked, with a glint in her eyes, resonating concern._

 _"Yeah, I'm fine JJ, it's not like I'm hurt or anything," he said with an edge.  
_

 _"Okay, you're being sarcastic. That's not really like you Spence, not at all." They were in front of a white house, waiting for their suspect. To pass the time, she tried to make small talk to him. It's like he didn't bite._

 _"JJ, I've always been like this, it's just you haven't seen this side of me." JJ was getting more concerned with each and every word that he said._

 _It had been only a few weeks since Morgan left and he had somewhat shut down._

 _"It's just that, I'm worried, you know?" Then a man walked out of the front door, wearing a black hoodie._

 _JJ and Spencer looked at each other with the same knowledge, keeping their guard up._

* * *

That happened just one hour ago.

One hour he could've prevented.

This wasn't like Gideon.

He saw the red on himself, almost refusing to wash it off.

It was drying, but it was still there.

He looked at her lifeless body, wondering if he could've fixed this.

The voices are his problem though.

It's his only problem now.

 _"You think that you're all that, but really you're nothing!"_

 _"For a genius, you can be such an idiot!"_

 _"Just for once, can you not be such a danger magnet!"_

He had dealt with those kinds of remarks before. But these aren't the bullies that can just go away. They're in his head, which he wonders, is he crazy? Or are these just a manifestation of his supposed guilt? A nurse appeared before him, looking at him with daunting eyes. Or so they seem.

"Do you need me to call anybody?" she asks.

"No, it's fine." But when she looks at him, it clearly does not seem fine. He's still covered in the same red we all carry in our bodies. Except, now it's all over him.

Why doesn't he call?

Why did he carry her instead?

Did he really feel that bad?

He pulled out his phone and called one number he can rely on. "Hotch, it's JJ."

* * *

 _They both stop in front of him, preventing him from going anywhere. JJ pulls out her badge, while Spencer looked at the man with a curious outlook._

 _Young._

 _Muscular._

 _The angry glint._

 _The heavy smell of tobacco._

 _The smirk on his face._

 _"Hi, I'm Agent Jareau and this is Dr. Reid. We're from the-" Then it begins. One shot._

 _One shot that can risk it all._

 _He pulls out his service weapon, trying to keep the distance between them._

 _The man reveals the weapon in hand, shooting wildly._

 _He knew he had more accuracy with every shot._

 _It was a good thing he switched to a Glock now._

 _All it took was one pause._

 _Spencer leveled his gun in hand and fired._

 _One shot._

 _He didn't even see it._

 _He breathes a sigh of relief.  
_

 _He puts his weapon back and looks to JJ._

 _"Hey, I'm going to-" Then he sees it._

 _The wobble, the loose grip, the catatonic state._

 _But her eyes. The bright and beautiful eyes, now shattered with confusion. Dilated. Confused. Shocked, even._

 _Her legs were deciding whether to stand up or fall down._

 _She knows what she's doing, she knows to back up._

 _Then the red starts to show._

 _It starts to trickle from her side._

 _He runs to her side, catching her when she finally falls._

 _This wasn't happening. It won't happen._

 _He grabs her gun and starts to panic._

 _"JJ?" he asked, expecting an answer. "JJ, JJ, JJ!" he exclaimed now. This wasn't fucking happening on his watch._

 _"Spence," she weakly responds, giving some sort of relief._

 _"So-"_

 _"Yes, you were shot, but we're going to take you to a hospital, okay?" He knows that it's too far out and the bullets managed to hit the car. Just perfect. Just fucking perfect._

 _Luckily there was a hospital nearby._

 _He takes off his sports coat, ignoring the sound of pain she was giving when he put pressure on it._

 _"I need you to put pressure on this while I take to the hospital, okay?" She doesn't respond. "Okay?!" he loudly asked, clearly panicked.  
_

 _"Okay," she manages to say, clearly grimacing. He slid his long arms under her back and legs and started to lift her up. To pass the time, Spencer started the conversation this time, hopefully distracting her._

 _"Tell me about Rosaline." She starts to weakly smile, remembering all of her memories with her. She doesn't need to know that the situation has gone downhill._

* * *

"Reid," a voice said. She starts to lower herself to his level, revealing it to be Emily. Her brown eyes revealed worry, not just for JJ, but for Spencer too. "I heard that JJ was shot and you carried her here. Is that true?" she said in a somber tone. He just nodded, looking over to nothing, waiting for the others to get here.

Then she notices.

The crimson he never bothered to wash off.

She was thinking what all of the others were thinking. Did the guilt really affect him that much?

She was guessing yes by the time an officer came by.

He took out a notepad when she slowly shook her head.

No officer would just walk away, but with this kind of outlook, he nodded back and headed on his way.

The others came one by one, knowing that this was just brutal.

None of them said a word.

Just quietly heading to a chair, waiting for the news.

* * *

 _The pain is killing him._

 _The beating sun._

 _The agonizing migraine coming._

 _The strain of carrying her._

 _He keeps going, knowing that if he gives up, it's all over._

 _But his skin burns._

 _His tongue is dry as the Sahara._

 _He keeps going, no matter what._

 _They talked about everything._

 _How Rosaline got to protect her._

 _How Henry was doing._

 _How her family was doing._

 _Even how Will was doing, which was hard to do._

 _Her speech, from stuttering to slurring._

 _She starts to talk about she feels colder with each minute._

 _He can feel the crimson starting to seep into his shirt._

 _The crimson is slowly dripping to the ground._

 _It's everywhere, he knows it._

 _Her eyes are slowly starting to lose that precious light that she was trying to hold on to._

 _Pain, she feels it, he sees it._

 _"Spence..."_

 _"What is it JJ?" he asks in a soft tone._

 _"I don't wanna... I don't wanna... wanna die. Not...not...not now."_

 _So much fear. So little time. He brushes her hair out of her face and tries to reassure her._

 _"I know JJ, but we're almost there. You just need to hold on, okay?" She gives a weak smile. She stops speaking, but he doesn't stop walking._

 _He walks faster, but he stumbles._

 _Staggers._

 _Tries to get to the entrance before it's too late._

 _He grasps her hand, in which she grasps back._

 _She needs him, he needs her more._

 _He got to the entrance._

 _A doctor sees him and sees the red gathering on her shirt._

 _On his shirt._

 _They bring a gurney._

 _He lays her down._

 _They hold each other one more time, before he lets go._

* * *

Kate had come.

So did Blake.

Morgan paced around.

Garcia was praying to someone out there.

Hotch looked somber.

Rossi was absolutely devastated.

Emily holds his hand, trying to elicit a response.

His nerves work up into a ball of complex heights.

When a doctor comes out, everyone looks at him, understandably upset.

Spencer walked past him to where the body was being held.

Her eyes, they weren't holding that light anymore.

They were gone.

Her hand was cold.

He saw the instruments, trying to repair the damage.

He held her hand, trying to regain her warmth.

Someone has to tell Will, he thinks.

He grips her hand, instead of breaking down,

He slowly cries on her lifeless body.

Just like that.

Gone.

Death was his mantra after all.


End file.
